


Who are you really?

by literal_insect



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Hurt/Comfort, It/Its Pronouns For Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Wears a Skirt, Michael Shelley Lives, Michael has a stutter, Nightmares, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Nonbinary Michael Shelley, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, a surprising amount of angst and i am sorry, it/its pronouns for michael shelley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literal_insect/pseuds/literal_insect
Summary: When Helen becomes the Distortion, Michael Shelley is released from the corridors. With the Archivist's help, It learns how to be human once again.
Relationships: Michael Shelley & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael Shelley/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a work by me under the name of Just Know I'm Just Like You, but I lost motivation and didn't know how to move forward. So here is almost the same fic, but I've made changes and hopefully improved it a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for this chapter : I briefly describe Michael unbecoming the Distortion. It isn't very long, and you can definitely skip over it if it makes you uncomfortable.

Michael hadn’t _wanted_ to interfere. It was perfectly content to watch everything play out on its own. But the Archivist has yet to stop the Unknowing - and will most likely bring it about faster - so It’s decided to kill him.

“Is there anything I can do to stop you from doing this?” 

“If you scream loud enough the circus might take notice of me, but I promise you will die far more pleasantly with me than with them.” Michael says, laughing. It's a distorted sound that echoes around the room. 

There’s a brief pause as the Archivist thinks everything over, before they finally agree in defeat, knowing there’s nothing they can do. 

“Good. Right this way.” Michael says cheerfully, motioning towards the yellow door that appeared out of nowhere. “Open it. Open it and all of this will be over.” 

The Archivist hesitantly reaches out to turn the handle, but it doesn't turn. “Er… it’s-” They try another few times, but the handle doesn't budge. 

“What?” Michael says, growing impatient. 

“It’s locked.” 

“It's not.” It laughs. 

“Why is it locked?” 

“It can't be!” 

“Well, you try it!” 

Michael grasps at the door handle and rattles it. “That’s not…” It stutters out worriedly, then the realization dawns on It. “Oh. Oh no.” 

In an instant, Michael is overcome by unbearable pain and falls to the ground. It cries out, Its painful and distorted scream echoing as it fills the room. Its body convulses and Its head feels like it's splitting in two. Its bones snap and reshape themselves to what they once were. And just as quickly as it started, it stops. And the being that is now Michael Shelley lies limply on the floor in front of the yellow door, which quickly disappears. 

Another door appears, this one far different from the yellow one the Archivist had grown used to. It creaks open to reveal the Distortion, though It’s not the same. 

“Do you want to come in?” 

The Archivist looks up at It… her… to see an almost familiar face. He sees Helen Richardson, though she is different. She is towering over him now, her once short black hair is now a large mass of purples and blues. The suit she is wearing is angular and coated in swirling shades of green. Just looking at her causes the Archivist to feel lightheaded. 

“Helen? Helen Richardson? But you- Michael…” They stammer, then they look over to see Michael collapsed on the ground. “Oh… What happened?” 

Helen looks to Michael and says “It got… distracted. Let feelings that shouldn’t have been Its overwhelm me.” She looks back to The Archivist, her expression unreadable. “When I took over, Michael Shelley was finally released.” 

“And now you’re… you’re _Helen?_ ” He stutters, still trying to understand what happened. 

“I don’t know. I never know, really. Do I need a name?” 

“Ah… no. I suppose not.” 

“Helen is better than Michael.” 

“But she’s gone.” 

“Yes, well…” She doesn’t finish her thought, and the Archivist gets the impression that she doesn’t completely understand what happened either. “Do you still want to leave here?” She says after some time. 

“Are you still going to kill me?” 

“No.” She says plainly. “That was Michael’s desire, not mine.” 

“So what _do_ you want?” 

“I don’t know. Helen liked you, so there’s a lot to consider. But I will help you leave.” 

“Wait… You're Mi- You’re the Distortion, the… the Liar. How do I know this isn’t a trick?” 

“And if it was, what would you do about it?” 

“Ah, nothing… I suppose.” He pauses, then, “How long have I been here? There’s no- It was hard to keep track-” 

“Time is hard, Archivist. It’s difficult to follow without a proper mind.” 

“Right…” 

“The door is open if you’re ready?” Helen says. The Archivist looks to the open door behind her, and he can’t make out whatever is on the other side, it’s definitely a hallway of some sort, but it looks blurry? The Archivist isn’t too sure. They glance back at Michael. 

Michael seems to be in pain, It’s eyes half closed and unfocused as It looks back at the Archivist. 

“And what about _It_ , uh, _him?_ ” 

“I’m not sure if It wants to go back into the corridors. Though it won't be a problem for me to take both of you if that's what you’re wondering. And you should hurry up, Michael’s screaming probably didn’t go unnoticed.” 

Michael groans, and looks from Helen to the Archivist. 

The Archivist goes over to It and reaches out a hand. “I’m guessing you’d rather come with us, then wait for Nikola to come back?” 

Michael goes to answer, but all that comes out is a small squeak. So instead It nods and takes the Archivist’s hand, pulling Itself up. It stands on shaking legs, and the Archivist notices just in time to catch It before It falls. They follow Helen through the door, and into the corridors within. 

\--------------------------------------

“Look, Jon, I know you’re upset.” 

“A month, Elias. And you did what, nothing?” 

“I was doing everything in my power to locate you.” This earns a dry laugh from the Archivist “Everyone was working on finding the ritual sight.” 

“You didn’t tell them that I’d been _kidnapped_ though, did you?” 

“It wouldn’t have helped matters. Martin’s research, at least, would have been sloppier.” 

“Oh, imagine what might have happened if your rescue had been slower.” They say, mockingly. 

“Sarcasm isn’t going to help, Jon.” 

“The only thing that ‘isn’t going to help’ is you. I am sick of relying on the kindness of things whose stated intent is to kill me.” He finishes, sounding more annoyed than angry. 

“I am so sorry, Jon, that my powers have not yet reached the level of omniscience. And I am sorry that I have to spend so much time helping you develop your powers on your own rather than explaining everything to you as though you were a child.” Elias says, each word laced in sarcasm. “But you have a job to do, and I cannot fight your battles for you.” He finishes, clearly irritated. 

“As far as I can tell the only battles I’ve been fighting have been yours and Gertrude’s.” 

At the mention of Gertrude, Michael - who is sitting in the chair beside Jon - visibly shudders. Both Elias and Jon look over, Elias irritated, and Jon with a worried expression on their face. Michael looks at the both of them then tries to make Itself seem smaller, hugging Its legs close to Its chest. 

“I should hope preventing the horrific transformation of our world is not solely my concern.” Elias says, looking back at Jon. 

“Fine, at least we now know you’re of zero practical use here.” He outstretches his hand towards Michael, who takes it, then they both walk out of Elias’ office. 

Once they reach Jon’s office Michael relaxes somewhat. It walks over to one of the chairs by the desk and collapses onto it, hugging Its knees to Its chest again. 

“Er… are you alright? I’m really sorry for dragging you in there, and for mentioning… her… I wasn’t really thinking.” Jon stutters, standing rather awkwardly by the doorway. Michael looks up at them and goes to speak, but instead goes into a coughing fit. Jon rushes to Its side, unsure of how to help. It’s coughing soon subsides, and It looks up at Jon’s worried face and laughs. It's a small, weak laugh, but clearly genuine. 

“Wh-what..?” He asks, more confused than worried now. 

“It’s… it's nothing, Archivist.” It says, still laughing, It’s voice hoarse and cracking. 

“I- alright.” A pause, then, “I’m going to go get you a glass of water, the break room is close by so I won’t be long.” Michael just nods, and Jon walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, most of the dialogue is taken directly from the transcript for episode 101. I do apologize for that, but I won't do that for any other chapters for nearly this long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to continue posting a new chapter every day, but I might do this again tomorrow? I have no idea. Enjoy this chapter tho !

Michael is looking at Itself in the mirror in the breakroom. Jon is sitting at a nearby table, hoping none of his co-workers walk in. He isn’t in the mood to try and explain why what used to be the Distortion is currently in the Institute. He’s taking this time to look at Michael, to see how It's changed since becoming human. 

Its height doesn’t seem to have changed at all, It still towers well above him and they guess It’s well over six feet tall. Its hair, which was once long with perfect curls, is now a tangled mess. Jon watches Michael as It picks at a small section of hair, trying to detangle it, but It quickly gives up. The biggest change is Its hands. What were once large with knifelike points are now normal, calloused with a few small scars here and there. Jon notices that It's hands are shaking, whether from the pain It’s still in or from the shock of it all, he isn’t sure. 

As Michael looks at Itself in the mirror It doesn’t feel right. What It’s looking at doesn’t feel right, it can’t be right. It misses Its impossibly perfect curls, the bright swirling colours that used to cover Its skin. Those colours are now just small freckles. Its eyes, which used to be swirling, ever changing colours are now a dull grey. None of this feels right. It just stands there, examining every little change to Its appearance with a mournful expression. 

“Michael? Are you alright?” Jon asks quietly. 

“I’m… I’m not sure…” It says with a small, humourless laugh as It turns towards Jon. “This is all so different... so strange...” Michael looks down at Its shaking hands. It examines them thoroughly before letting out a long exasperated sigh. Michael takes one last look at the mirror then goes to sit at the table across from Jon. They sit there in silence for a while, neither one knowing what to say. Michael keeps trying to untangle Its hair, to no avail. 

“Would you like me to brush out your hair for you?” Jon asks, finally breaking the silence. “Or you could do it yourself, sorry… I’ve got a hairbrush in my office if you’d like to use it.” They stammer. 

“That would be nice.” Michael says quietly. 

“Right, let’s go back to my office then.” They say, rather surprised that Michael agreed. Jon stands up from his chair and as if on instinct, reaches his hand out towards Michael. It takes their hand, not meeting his eyes, and they walk out of the breakroom together. As Michael is still rather worn out, he lets It lean up against his shoulder as they walk. As they turn a corner they all but run into Tim. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re-” Tim starts, then he looks up to see Jon and Michael. “You! Where have you been! And why is he here?” He says fiercely. 

“Tim… not right now please-” 

“No… no, you’re answering my questions, Jon. What the hell is going on?” 

Jon looks at Michael who is shifting from side to side uncomfortably, he sighs then says “It- he’s human now. A lot has happened in the past few hours, Tim. Could you please-” 

“You expect me to believe you? To go along with this just like that?” Tim says with a bitter laugh. “Where have you been, Jon, it's been a whole month and not a word!” 

“I was kidnapped…” 

“I- oh…” He cuts himself off, growing quiet. 

“Look, it’s… it’s fine, Tim. We can talk about all of this later.” Jon says, clearly tired, and they walk past Tim with Michael in tow. 

They manage to make it to Jon’s office without running into anyone else. Once they walk inside Jon helps Michael over to the chair, and he goes over to the other side of the desk. Michael sits down and bows Its head, unsure of what to say after that. 

“Would you like me to…” Jon trails off. Michael looks up to see him with a hairbrush in hand. 

“Oh… yes. If you wouldn’t mind…” It stammers. Jon gets up and walks over to Michael, standing behind It. They take a small section of hair and start to brush it. They are careful not to pull too hard as they go section by section rather slowly. There’s an uncomfortable silence between them as Jon brushes Michael’s hair, and Michael just sits there, leaning into the touch. 

It finally decides to break the silence and to ask what’s been on Its mind for some time. 

“Archivist… why are you being so kind to me?” 

Jon tenses up a bit and asks “I, uh... What do you mean exactly?” 

“I mean, you barely know me. I was very... unkind to you the times we talked, and I was going to kill you.” Michael starts fidgeting with Its hands. “And you could have left me there, to be killed or, or worse. But you didn’t. You helped me… you brought me here.” It trails off quietly with a small laugh. 

“Oh…” Jon says quietly as they take their hands away. 

“Oh? Th-that’s it?” Michael says, raising Its voice slightly and turning around to face him. “I was going to kill you!” It stammers. 

“It's not like I could’ve just left you there!” They lock eyes for a brief moment before Jon looks to the ground. 

Michael takes this time to look at him. It has looked at them before, but when It was the Distortion everything It saw seemed to be coated in bright swirling patterns. So as Michael looks at them now, It notices things It hadn’t before. Their hair is a mixture of dark brown, grey, and white. The multitude of scars that litter their face and neck are a lighter shade than the rest of their skin. As Michael takes in these details Jon turns to face them again, and It quickly looks down at Its hands. 

“Look,” Jon says finally, “I don’t know why I helped you, I wish I did… And I’m being kind to you because… well, it just feels right?” 

“But the only reason I was there was to kill you…” Michael says this so quietly, It's not even sure Jon heard It until they say “Are you still going to?” 

“What?” It stammers. 

“Are you still going to kill me?” He repeats, there’s a staticy aspect to their voice now and Michael can’t do anything but answer the question. 

“I… no. When I was the Distortion I mostly thought of you as… well as the Archivist… her replacement… and… and I knew she died, I know she died… but I still wanted revenge, I suppose. But no, I’m not going to kill you.” Michael looks up at him and says “And I don’t appreciate being beheld, Archivist.” 

He apologizes quickly, then they go into silence once more. Michael continues fidgeting with Its hands, mostly just to have something to do. Jon finally grows tired of the silence and speaks up. “I… would you like me to finish brushing your hair?” 

“Oh… no. You probably have things to do. I can do it on my own.” 

“Right, I’m going to change out of this,” Jon says, gesturing to the tattered clothes he’d worn while in the wax museum, “I won’t be long.” Jon goes over to a nearby table, grabs a bag then walks out of the office, closing the door behind himself. 

Michael sits there, determined to finish brushing out Its hair, but Its arms quickly grow tired. It looks around the office and takes everything in. It is surprised that It's so comfortable here. Since this used to be her office It expected to feel far from comfortable. It looks around, and as It does It starts to recognize the room, but it doesn’t seem to have the same feeling as it did when it belonged to her. The room is a mess, with statements piled up almost everywhere. Michael laughs to Itself then looks back down at Its hands, noticing again what It's wearing. An orange long sleeve shirt and an old pair of jeans, both rather damaged. It’s what It wore on the trip to Sannikov Land, aside from a jacket that has long since been discarded. Michael wishes It had a change of clothes as well. 

\--------------------------------------

Jon is rather glad that he keeps a change of clothes in his office, he wouldn’t have been able to go the rest of the day in those old tattered ones. It doesn’t take him long, and they return to their office, glad not to have run into anyone. They walk into their office and close the door behind themself, and see that Michael has given up on brushing Its hair. 

“Are you still sore?” He asks, but Michael seems to be lost in thought. “Michael..?” It jumps slightly and turns to look at them. Its face is etched with a look of surprise, but it quickly turns to something akin to curiosity. It can’t help but notice how different he looks in what he’s wearing, a nice dark green skirt that reaches his ankles, and a grey cardigan over a white collared shirt. 

“Michael?” They say, again, 

“I…” It starts to say, looking away from Jon. 

“You’ve already given up on brushing your hair?” They ask with a smile, walking over to put their bag back on the table. “Is it alright if I do it for you? Your hair is rather nice.” 

“Oh, you really don’t need to…” It stutters. 

“I don’t want to push any boundaries, Michael. If you don’t want me to brush your hair then I won’t.” 

Michael thinks it over for a moment, before saying “If… If you wouldn’t mind.” 

With that Jon walks over to the desk, picks up the hairbrush, and starts brushing Michael’s hair again. They stay like that for a while, both of them rather content as Jon runs the brush through Its hair.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronoun discussion happens ! :D

“That’s a rather nice skirt, Jon.” Basira says as she walks into the breakroom. Jon, who is over at the counter making tea, jumps at her voice. He turns around quickly, and seeing that it's only Basira he relaxes a bit. 

“I, uh, thank you. I don’t usually wear stuff like this, but I’ve honestly stopped caring at this point…” They trail off. 

“Well, I think it suits you.” She says, walking over to the table, a book in hand. “Where have you been? No one’s seen you in a while.” 

“Oh… I was… well, it's a long story…” He says, reluctantly. 

“I have time.” 

“Right… I’ll tell everyone what happened sometime soon, but for now I’ll just say that… well… I was kidnapped…” They stutter out quietly. 

“Kidnapped?” She exclaims. “Jon, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Elias didn’t tell any of us.” 

“Yeah… he said he was _‘doing everything in his power to find me’_ , but I don’t believe him.” They say, still not meeting Basira’s eyes. 

“Are you alright though? I mean, a whole month, Jon!” 

“I’m… I’m okay, I just… can we not get into it right now..?” 

“Of course, yeah, sorry for prying.” The kettle whistles and Jon turns to the counter and pours two cups of tea. He sets them on a tray and goes to one of the cupboards. 

“Why are you making two cups?” Basira says, looking up. 

“Oh, well, I’ve got some company back in my office.” 

“Not unwelcome company I hope.” 

“I’m making him tea, Basira.” Jon says. “Though I can’t quite call him a _friend_ …” He takes out a box of biscuits and puts a few on a plate which he then places on the tray. 

“Really? You’re giving him some of the best biscuits we’ve got.” She says with an amused smile. 

“Right… well, he went through a lot earlier today, I’m just trying to help.” He stammers. 

“That’s rather nice of you.” 

“I’m not a horrible person you know.” They say, facing Basira now. 

“Mhm… whatever you say.” 

“Basira!” 

“Right, sorry. I’m only messing with you.” She says laughing. “Well, do I know this ‘not friend’ of yours?” 

“I don’t think so, but you’ll probably meet him soon enough.” Jon turns around and picks up the tray. “Right, well I’ll be going now.” 

“See you around.” She says, returning to her book. 

\-------------------------------------- 

Jon returns to his office and places the tray on his desk. “Here you are, Michael.” They announce, sitting down. 

“Oh, thank you, Archivist.” It says, not looking up. Jon had given It a notebook and It’s been writing in it since they left to make tea. Michael seems to have gone through their desk as there are now many pens of different colours laying out in front of It. 

“Why do you insist on calling me that? _Archivist._ You can just call me Jon.” He says, looking at the scattered pens. 

“I… I’m not sure. Habit I suppose… Jon, then.” It says, looking up at them with a smile. 

Michael looks back down at the notebook and scribbles something down. Jon goes through his desk, moves a few papers aside, and finds a statement. All of the follow-up has been done, he just needs to record it, but there’s something more important occupying his mind. 

“Michael?” He says, placing the file down. 

It only hums in response. 

“What are your pronouns?” 

It stops writing now, clearly confused by the question. “I… I’m not sure..? Before merging with the Distortion, Michael Shelley was… _I_ was him, but since then I’ve been _It…_ though, that was because I wasn’t a person…” It stutters out, still in thought. 

“Well, what are you comfortable with now?” Jon asks softly. It takes a moment, thinking everything over. 

“I think… I think I like _It_. Though I suppose that’s rather odd since I’m human again…” Michael trails off with a sad laugh. 

“No, no that’s not odd at all.” Jon says, trying their best to be reassuring. “Plenty of people prefer to go by It rather than he, she or they.” 

Michael looks up at him questioningly. “Really?” 

“Yes, don’t worry.” 

A small smile starts to tug at the corners of Its lips. “And… and what about you, Jon? What are your pronouns? I’m sorry for never having asked before.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He says with a laugh. “He/they, and I don’t have a preference.” 

“Right, I’ll make sure to remember that.” Michael takes one last glance at Jon before looking down at the notebook again and writing something down. Jon picks up the file and looks over it for a moment. 

“Michael, I’m going to record a statement now, if that’s alright with you.” Michael just hums in affirmation, and Jon takes a recorder out of one of the desk drawers, sets it down, and turns it on. 

“Statement of François Deschamps, regarding the family and presumed marriage of Benoît Maçon. Statement given June fourth, 2014. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.” 

\--------------------------------------

“Statement ends. Th-this is uhm... “ They look through the papers again, their hands shaking a bit. “This is written in French... A-all of it.” 

“Oh? Do you-” Michael starts, looking up. 

“No. No, I don’t… I don’t speak French. I, I don’t even read… I’ve never…” He sighs. “I wish I could find it in myself to be surprised…” They say with a weak smile, looking at Michael before looking back at the pages and trying to compose themself. 

“This… this statement seems to have been given directly to Ger- uh... to the previous Head Archivist. Though evidently not recorded. Did she perhaps leave her tape recorder at home when she took this little field trip with Gerard? June 2014… that’s barely a year before Gerard Keay’s brain tumor would lead to his own death.” At this mention of Gerard Keay, Michael looks up again, concerned, but Jon fails to notice this and continues speaking. “Did he already know? That his life was ending? Was he trying to accomplish one last good deed? Were they both?” 

“Jon..?” Michael says, worried. 

“Oh.” Jon looks up at It. “Sorry, uhm…” He quickly finishes reading the follow-up, which is mostly details on where Gertrude went after taking this statement. 

“In the meantime, I… I have a new flat. I should try to get comfortable, change the locks, even if I need to be leaving it for a while… or... “ They trail off, lost in thought. They look up at Michael then turn off the tape recorder and lay their head in their hands, letting out a long sigh. 

“Are you alright, Jon?” It says, Its voice laced with concern. 

“I… I don’t know.” He says, not looking up. “I just… I have a bunch of leads to follow up on. I need to figure out where she went next. I need to figure out what I can about the Unknowing, like how to stop it. And it’s just… it’s a lot.” He lets out a long sigh. “I-I’m sorry for rambling… I have no right to be complaining like this, I mean, you’ve been through so much today. I just-” 

Michael throws Its head back and lets out loud, amused laughter that fills the room. Its laughter is so different from the headache inducing sounds it used to be. Jon looks up at It quickly, not having expected this reaction. It takes a bit, but Michael’s laughter eventually subsides. 

“What was that all about?” Jon asks, confused. 

“You really need to give yourself a break, Jon.” It says with an amused smile. “You were kidnapped and were being held hostage in an old museum for the past month. Let someone else deal with… all of this.” It finishes by gesturing to the papers all over the desk. 

“You’re right, Michael. I just… I can’t.” 

“But you _can_.” It says, cutting him off again. “You have assistants for a reason, right? Just tell them what you need them to work on then you won’t need to be so worried about it.” It pauses, thinking of what else It can say to convince Jon, but he just sighs and shakes his head. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to take your advice.” He says with a small smile. 

“Hey! What’s so wrong with that?!” It says with a laugh. 

“No, no… you’re right you know. I’ll go find everyone and… oh.” His smile falters. 

“What?” 

“I haven’t actually told everyone that I’m back yet…” 

“Well, you should do that before you start ordering them around.” Michael says, trying to lighten the mood again. This earns a small laugh from Jon. 

“Hey, it was your idea.” They say playfully. 

“Yes, yes… should I go with you?” 

“I… no, it’s probably best if you stay here for now.” 

“Alright.” 

“And, maybe don’t go rummaging through my stuff?” He says he stands up, gesturing to the pens littering Michaels’s side of the desk. 

“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.” It replies with an innocent smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon talks to his coworkers. Jon and Michael make some plans.

As Jon finishes telling his co-workers where he’s been for the past month, he looks around to gauge their reactions. He had already told Basira and Tim a bit earlier that day so he isn’t surprised that they aren’t reacting as much as the others. Though the full details of what happened do make it worse. He looks at Martin to see him looking rather shocked, and nearly in tears. He looks at Melanie, and she seems shocked and still confused. Jon had even managed to find Daisy, which was unexpected as no one had seen her around the Institute in a while. And as Jon looks to her she looks back at him with a look of almost astonishment, before quickly going back to a neutral expression. 

“So, this Michael guy is in your office, like, right now?” Melanie asks. 

“The one who stopped me and Martin from helping you with the _worm incident?_ ” Tim adds. All Jon can do is agree. 

“And what exactly are you going to do now? Get all buddy-buddy with him?” Tim says, bitterly. 

“ _It..._ And I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do next. All I know is that I’m going to take a small break, only a few days off, before getting back to… all this.” He says, addressing everyone. 

“Taking a break is only reasonable, Jon. You can take however long you need.” Basira says. 

“And what about Michael?” Daisy chimes in. 

“I… I suppose I’ll have to ask what It thinks is best. But honestly, both of us could use a break.” 

“So you’re going to, what? Invite him to your flat?” Tim laughs. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” 

“Literally anything else!” 

Jon sighs. “Look, I understand that you don’t trust Michael. But It’s been through a lot, even more than I have, honestly. I’m just trying to help.” He looks around at everyone. 

“I think it's an awful plan.” Daisy chimes in. “It was going to kill you. Then, what? It just becomes human? It changes Its mind? And you believe It just like that?” 

“It’s not quite that simple… I didn’t just _ask_ , I… I kind of pulled out that information..?” Jon says reluctantly. “There’s no way It could have been lying…” 

There’s a brief pause as everyone registers what Jon said, before Melanie exclaims “Well, that's just great! You’ve got evil powers too!” 

“Melanie!” Basira interjects. 

“She’s not wrong.” Tim adds. 

“Look, do whatever you want Jon, I honestly don't care at this point.” Melanie finishes with a huff. What follows is a silent agreement that they've all finished talking and the archival assistants walk out of the room, all except for Martin who still hasn’t said a word. 

Once they are all seemingly out of earshot Martin starts to ramble. “Look I’m so sorry, Jon. Elias didn’t even tell any of us that you’d been kidnapped. I didn’t know. No one else was telling me anything. And there wasn’t any-” 

“Hey, hey, hey… it's alright.” Jon says, trying to calm him down. “Elias didn’t tell anyone… There was no way you could have known. I mean, I wasn’t exactly here before…“

“No, you weren’t… But I’m sure if you could’ve been you would have.” He babbles on. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you?” 

“No, no I’m… I’m okay, just… it was a lot.” He sighs. 

There’s a long pause before Martin says “So… _are_ you coming back, or..?” 

“I don’t know.” He stutters. “Probably not yet. Not for a bit, at least. There’s a lot of… I just…”

“Oh… no worries. It’s alright, Jon.” 

“I will keep in touch though. As I’ve already said, there’s a lot of stuff we need to figure out…” Another pause, then he says “Elias mentioned… he’d said you’d been reading statements?” 

“Oh, uhm yeah. He said it might help.” 

“Right. I mean, they’re not- they haven't… You’ve been okay?” They stammer. 

“Yeah. I mean… it wasn’t _fun_ but, if it helps…” 

“Okay. If you’re sure just... Make sure the others help you, alright? Statements can be… If you’re not used to them they can be a bit weird… And reading a lot of them over a short period of time can be… we’ll, it isn’t good to say the least.” 

“Er… sure.” There’s another pause, then Martin says “So, Michael..?” 

“Yeah… uhm… It’s human now.” 

“It?” 

“I, uh, yes. Michael goes by It.” 

“Oh…” 

“Anyway, I should… I should get going. I need to talk with It and figure out what’s going to happen next.” Jon stutters. 

“Right, right…” 

“And I’m… I’m sorry, Martin. I know we haven't talked much since Sasha and everything.” 

“Well, I mean it’s not too late you know. Unless the world ends.” He says with a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah.” 

\--------------------------------------

Jon makes his way back to his office, and once he walks inside he sees Michael sitting in the chair with Its legs draped over the armrest. And despite the stress he’s under after talking with everyone, he can’t help but smile looking at It, Its face scrunched up as It concentrates on whatever It’s writing. They almost don’t want to disrupt It, but they know they should. They call Its name, but It doesn’t react. Jon walks further into the room and sits down across from Michael, and still It doesn’t notice him. He doesn’t want to startle It, but he isn’t quite sure of what to do. 

“Michael?” He says quietly. He repeats himself a few times until Michael finally looks up at him. 

“Oh… Hi, uhm… how long have you been back?” It stammers. 

“Not very long, don’t worry.” Jon says reassuringly. 

“Right, right… sorry about that.” Michael says sheepishly. 

“It's alright.” 

“Right… well, how did it go?” 

“It was… alright. Not the best, but… I… I was wondering though… what about you? Where are you going to be staying?” 

“I… I’m not too sure…" Michael moves Its legs down off of the armrest and maneuvers around so that It's sitting cross-legged in the chair. "I don’t really have anywhere to stay… Is the climate-controlled storage room still here?” 

“Well, yes, but there’s no need to stay here. You could always come to my flat.” 

“That would be… that would be rather nice… and it would be nice to be out of the eye’s domain…” Michael mutters to Itself in thought. Jon just waits patiently. “Right, yes. Thank you.” It says finally. 

“Alright.” He says with a smile. “We can leave soon if you’d like, I just need to check what time the tram arrives.” Michael hums in acknowledgment and goes back to the notebook. 

Jon logs into his laptop and checks the schedule to see that the tram doesn’t arrive for another half-hour or so. He looks up to tell Michael but sees It deep in concentration again, writing something down in the notebook. He just watches It for a bit, noting the way Its expression changes as It writes. How when It isn’t writing It will twirl the pen in a coil of hair. How Michael will tap Its index finger on the side of the notebook, as if along to a rhythm that only It can hear, only really stopping when writing something down. 

It’s currently twirling the pen in Its hair. Jon watches as it twists the pen around the golden curl, then it stops suddenly, but the pen doesn’t move away. They look up at Michael’s face to see It looking back at them with an amused smile. Jon looks away quickly, their cheeks flushing, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

“When does the tram arrive?” Michael asks. Jon would have thought It was ignoring what just happened, were it not for the amused tone in Its voice. 

“In about a half-hour,” he manages to stutter, not quite meeting Its eyes, “we could head out now if you’d like since the stop is a bit far from here.” 

“That would be nice.” 

With that, Jon turns their attention back to their laptop, closes it, and walks over to the table to put it in their bag. Michael closes Its notebook - It doesn’t plan on giving it back to Jon anytime soon - and stands up, but as It does so, pens fall out from where It had absentmindedly put them in Its hair, startling It significantly. Seeing this, Jon can’t help but laugh. Michael just seems to ignore him, as It grabs at Its hair, trying to remove any remaining pens. 

“Does that happen often?” Jon stutters out through his laughter. Michael just glares at them while untangling a pen from Its hair. Once his laughter mostly subsides, he walks over and picks up the fallen pens, placing them on the desk. 

“You can take some of the pens if you’d like.” They say to Michael as It places the last one on the desk. It looks to Jon, then looks over the pens for a moment, finally deciding on two of them - one red and one blue. Jon picks up the rest of the pens and tosses them into one of the desk drawers. 

“If you’re ready we can head out now.” He says, looking up. Michael just nods. 

“Hopefully we can avoid running into anyone.” He says, picking up his bag. He walks to the door and opens it for Michael, who walks through. They lock the door behind themself and walk ahead of Michael, leading the way out - though they don’t need to as Michael remembers Its way around the archives rather well. 

It doesn’t like being here, in the archives. There are too many memories here, not all of them bad, but overwhelming nonetheless. In Jon’s office, It had felt calm and safe, and Jon’s presence there had helped considerably. But being out in the open like this It feels uncomfortable. It feels _seen._ As Michael walks behind Jon, It reaches out Its hand for a moment - going to hold their hand, seeking that comfort - but thinks the better of it and lets Its hand drop back to Its side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for just posting these chapters at random, I'm bad at keeping up a scheduled like that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at Jon's flat and get settled in.

“Sorry about all the boxes,” Jon says as he unlocks the door and walks through, “I haven’t had much time to actually _move in_ yet.” Michael doesn’t say anything, It just walks into the room after Jon. Other than the boxes, the first thing It sees is a large open room that seems to consist of the living room and kitchen. The kitchen is small and not rather interesting, there’s a counter connected to it with three comfortable-looking stools. Michael brushes past the kitchen and goes instead to the couch, which is large and comfortable looking. When It reaches the couch It just plops down and drapes Its legs over the armrest. 

“Michael, what are you-” 

“Not now, Jon.” Michael interrupts, “I’m tired.” It drapes an arm over Its face dramatically which causes Jon to laugh. Their laugh is a light, gentle sound, and It can’t help but smile at hearing it. 

“Alright, alright.” They say, placing their bag on the counter. “I was going to show you around, but there isn’t much to see. Plus I’ve still got lots of unpacking to get done.” 

“Clearly.” It says with a smile. 

“Mhm… Well, I’m going to take a quick shower, I… uh…” He pauses for a moment, uncertain, and Michael looks up. “What is it?” It asks. 

“I just realized that… well… you’ll need to borrow some of my clothes for the time being, and well…” He gestured to his small stature, which is drastically different from Michael’s own. 

“Ah…” 

“I… we’ll figure something out… I, uh, follow me.” They start walking away down a small hallway, and Michael gets up from the couch and follows them. Jon leads the way to their bedroom and goes to an open box on the bed and starts rummaging through it. Also on the bed are a few more boxes and a few messily folded blankets. Michael looks around the room, It sees a couple of empty shelves on one wall and a seemingly empty dresser against the other. It looks back to Jon to see him laying out a few different clothes on the bed. 

“Take your pick.” He says, looking up at Michael. It looks down at the clothes for a bit, then finally settles on a fluffy looking sweater and a long flowy skirt. Jon picks up the rest of the clothes, but instead of placing them back in the box he walks over to the dresser and places them in the top drawer. 

“Right, so hopefully those will fit.” He says, turning to Michael. “You can shower first and I’ll order some food, alright?” 

“Alright.” It replies. Jon leads the way out of the room and goes to another box and grabs a towel and hands it to Michael. They gesture towards the other room and say “Take however long you need.” It just gives them a small smile and walks into the room. 

\--------------------------------------

Michael is looking at Itself in the mirror. The clothes that Jon gave It don’t fit that well - when It raises Its arms the sweater exposes some of Its stomach - but they aren’t too bad. And It’s feeling far more comfortable now after having had a shower. It finally feels clean. Michael is still sore all over, and It doesn’t know how long that will last. 

As It looks in the mirror what It sees still doesn’t seem right. Its hair seems dull as It runs a brush through it, and Its hands feel so odd. It stops brushing Its hair to look at Its hands now, It holds them close to Its face, examining them as if mesmerized. 

Then It just stares into the mirror, looking at Its own face. Looking at Its eyes. Looking at Its freckles. Seeing all these aspects of Itself that are new to It. 

Michael stays there for a bit, trying to remember what it was like before the Distortion. Trying to remember what it was like being human. Then It laughs. It’s a quiet, humourless laugh, and it too feels wrong. It sounds much more _real_ , so very different from the distorted static laugh It had grown so used to. Michael doesn’t know why It’s laughing, but It doesn’t like the sound, so It stops. 

\--------------------------------------

Jon and Michael are sitting at the counter, eating some takeout. Neither of them have tried to spark conversation, but Michael does have something on Its mind. It’s been thinking for a while, but it doesn’t know how to word it. It’s mostly been waiting for Jon to bring it up, but he has yet to do so, so Michael finally decides to speak up. 

“Jon… where am I going to sleep?” It stutters. 

“You can take the bed.” He says without any hesitation in his voice. 

“I… alright.” It says, then they go back into silence. 

After a bit, Michael pushes away what It had been eating and picks up the notebook. It’s been writing in it a lot since Jon gave it to It, but It hasn’t been writing much of importance. It's been mostly just writing down some words or phrases from Its conversations with Jon. Sometimes It’s written about Its surroundings. The pages are filled with jumbles of words in a messy and scrawling hand, only really distinguishable by the different colours they’re written in. Since getting to Jon’s flat, they have found some more coloured pens for Michael. It turns to a new page, and as It writes it can feel a pair of eyes on It. Michael ignores it for a bit, but the feeling is persistent so finally It looks up to see Jon surveying It. They quickly look away, his face flushing, muttering a small apology. This sparks Michael’s interest. 

“I don’t mind.” It says, clearly amused. Jon looks up quickly, face still red. “What?” They ask in a quiet voice. 

Michael laughs and says “I don’t mind you looking at me.” 

Just as Jon goes to respond they hear the sound of a door creaking open. They’ve grown rather used to that sound, but it’s not the same anymore. Michael isn’t the cause of it anymore. They look over to see not a yellow door, but a grey one, the same one Helen had first come out of. It opens all the way, and there she is. 

“Hello, Archivist. Michael.” She says, walking towards them. “I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?” 

Jon turns to face her, “What are you doing here?” he stammers. 

“Can’t I visit my friends?” Helen says with a smile that looks just a bit too wide. 

“We’re not your friends.” Michael says quickly, despite Its stutter. 

“Oh, you’ll come around eventually.” 

“Why are you _actually_ here?” Jon asks. 

“She’s not going to tell you.” Michael says quietly. 

“Well, I am!” She says, still smiling. “I came here to talk, but you two don’t seem very cheery.” 

“Well, I’m _sorry_ about that.” It says sarcastically, Its stutter is worsening with Its frustration. 

“To talk? About what?” Jon asks, either ignoring how upset Michael is, or simply not noticing. 

“I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been… having trouble.” 

“Trouble with what?” He asks. Helen looks to Michael, and It looks back at her with a look of both anger and fear. 

She shakes her head. “No. No, nevermind. I’ll just have to come by another time.” She says, her tone as cheery as ever. And before Jon can respond, Helen turns on her heels and walks back through the grey door, which promptly disappears. 

Jon and Michael are left in silence once more, neither of them knowing what to say after that. Jon looks at Michael for the first time since Helen showed up and sees how riled up It is. It picks up the notebook, seemingly just to have something to do, and starts writing. 

Jon feels awful at having indulged Helen without even considering how Michael would feel. He wants to apologize, but he isn’t sure of how, so he says nothing. 

\-------------------------------------- 

Michael doesn’t know how long It’s been writing, but It's managed to fill a few more pages with unimportant notes and has relaxed significantly. It looks up from the notebook and notices how late it’s gotten, and that Jon is no longer sitting beside It. Michael looks around, looking for him, not wanting to be alone. It looks to the couch to see him sitting there, and It calms down. He’s sitting with a blanket draped over his shoulders and has his laptop sitting on the table in front of him. Michael goes over to sit beside Jon, only to notice that they’ve fallen asleep. It decides to go and do the same. It walks out of the living room and towards the bedroom, turning off the overhead light as It goes. 

Once Michael reaches the bedroom It moves the boxes aside and crawls into bed. Michael lays there in the dark for a while, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Every small sound seems to be amplified in the otherwise quiet night, only making it more difficult. Michael finds Its mind wiring with thoughts. It thinks about the Distortion, Helen. Everything about her is strange. Michael feels resentment towards her, It’s angry at how easily she had cast It aside, thrown It out, and not even cared. It also feels scared. Scared of what will happen next. Michael has been marked by the Spiral, and It isn’t sure what will happen next. 

It’s uncomfortable now. Uncomfortable and exhausted. So much has happened throughout the day. 

Michael thinks about Jon. How kind they were throughout the day. How being around them had made It feel better while It had been in the Eye’s domain. How their presence alone had made the day more bearable, despite how strange everything had been for both of them. Michael finds Itself missing them even now. It knows that he’s just in the other room, but It can’t help but yearn for his presence now. It feels so _alone._

After some time Michael finally drifts off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael faces Its past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter : nightmares, slight unreality and a character goes nonverbal

Michael finds Itself in the corridors. The swirling patterns on the walls make It sick to Its stomach. Michael rushes down halls as everything seems to warp around It. It doesn’t want to look at the walls, they are covered in paintings and photographs and It’s scared of what It might see in them. Michael instead keeps Its eyes glued to the carpeted floor. The colours change around It as It runs, blurring together until everything is a muddy grey. Michael turns down different branches of corridors, looking for a way out, but It knows that even if there was an exit It would never be able to find it. Michael closes Its eyes, trying to block everything out. It runs and runs, but It knows there’s nowhere to run to. 

Then It trips. 

Its foot catches on something and It is sent tumbling to the ground. It looks up to see that the halls are back to how they were before. The walls are covered in peeling wallpaper with a few paintings here and there. One’s that Michael recognizes. It looks around and realizes that It knows where It is. It has seen this part of the corridors before. Michael gets up and runs on unsteady legs. It runs down the hall, all the while knowing It won’t be able to escape the inevitable. 

It runs down the dimly lit halls, desperate for some way out. Michael feels even more panicked now, but even in Its panic It feels like It's being watched. It just continues running. It runs, turning as the corridors turn, branching off as the corridors branch off. But the feeling doesn’t weaken, and Michael doesn’t get any further away from these corridors from Its past. Then It finds Itself in front of a door. A yellow door. One It knows It shouldn’t open. 

It tries to turn around, to go the other way, but It can’t move. It is forced to stare at this bright yellow door, and the feeling of being watched only grows stronger. Michael watches in horror as Its body moves against Its will and reaches out towards the door handle. It can’t stop Itself, but It can look away. With a lot of effort It turns Its head to look down the hall and there It sees Jon. 

Michael has never seen him like this. He seems to be aglow and his skin is littered with eyes, everywhere It looks It sees eyes. Then It grabs hold of the door handle, feeling the cold metal beneath Its hand. It turns the handle and hears the familiar creak as the door opens. Michael doesn’t want to look away from Jon, It doesn’t want to look into the doorway, but It is forced to. Michael first looks at Its hand, which is still holding the door handle, and Its hand is now a large and warped thing with far too many bones. It wants to scream, It wants to run, but it’s too late for any of that. It looks up, looks through the doorway, then Michael wakes up. 

It sits up in a panic. Its skin feels warm, Its chest feels tight, and it's becoming difficult to breath. Michael looks around the room, surveying Its surroundings. And it takes a while, but It slowly starts to recognize where It is. It puts Its hand up to Its face and feels Its cheek, which is hot and tear stained. Michael moves it away quickly and looks at Its hands, and seeing that they’re normal It starts to calm down. Most of Its immediate panic subsides as It sits there observing the room. Soon enough Its breathing calms. 

Michael doesn’t know what time it is, but from looking out the window It can tell that it’s still rather early. It knows It won’t be able to fall back asleep after that, so It slowly gets out of bed. It picks up one of the blankets It had tossed to the ground the other night, drapes it over Its shoulders, and walks out of the bedroom on unsteady legs. 

Michael walks to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. It turns on the tap and just places Its shaking hands under the cold water, before cupping Its hands and splashing Its face with the water. It's starting to feel less warm, and Its hands have almost stopped shaking as It stands there, looking in the mirror in the dark, but not focusing on Its reflection, just vaguely observing it. After a moment It walks back out into the hall. 

As Michael walks into the living room It doesn’t bother to turn on any lights. It looks to the couch to see Jon there, still asleep. It feels conflicted but ultimately decides to sit in the living room instead of at the counter so that It can be closer to them. It grabs the notebook off of the counter where It had left it last night, then walks over to the living room and sits on the couch beside Jon. Michael opens the notebook and starts writing as a way to distract itself. 

\-------------------------------------- 

After writing for a while, Michael has calmed down, and being near Jon has helped significantly. He has since woken up and is now in the kitchen making tea. Michael has yet to mention the nightmare, It wants to tell Jon, It really does, but It just can’t. 

Michael has moved to sit at the counter, not wanting to be too far away from him. “There are a few things I need to get done today.” Jon speaks up. Michael just hums in acknowledgment, that seems to be the only sound It can make this morning. “I have to pick up some groceries, as the fridge and cupboards are rather empty. And… well, I was also thinking that we should go clothes shopping, as you don’t really have anything to wear.” He finishes rather hesitantly. 

Michael _would_ like to go shopping. It knows It can’t continue to share Jon’s clothes, but It doesn’t like the idea of going out in public. The thought of being around so many people is not a welcome one. Michael is shaken out of Its thoughts by the sound of the kettle boiling. Jon turns around to grab it and fills the already prepared mugs. 

“I understand if you don’t want to go out in public,” they say as if reading Its thoughts, “and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do. But we have to think of something.” They maneuver around the small kitchen and come to sit next to Michael at the counter, placing the mugs down. 

“Are you alright?” They ask after a brief moment of silence. “You’ve been really quiet this morning.” 

Michael wants to speak. It wants to tell Jon how It feels. But It can’t. It tries to speak, tries to form the words, but no sound comes out. ‘I had a nightmare last night,’ It wants to say. Michael is frustrated, this hasn’t happened in so long and It wishes it would just stop. It wishes It could tell Jon not to worry, but It just can’t. It doesn’t want to face Jon, so instead It just looks at the mug they placed in front of It. 

“You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you if you don’t want to. But could you at least tell me how I can help?” Jon says, and Michael can hear a hint of worry in his voice. It wants to tell them, It really does. It wants to talk to him, It wants to reassure him that It’s alright, that this will pass. But It can’t. 

“If you don’t want to talk, could you write it down..?” Jon asks, still unsure. 

Michael looks up at Jon quickly, with a small smile despite Its previous frustration, then looks back to the counter and grabs the notebook. It turns to the next page and writes down _‘nonverbal’_ , then hands it to Jon. 

“Oh.” They say quietly. “I… I don’t know much about this, sorry… what would you like me to do?” They pass the notebook back to Michael, who writes something else down. _‘I will be fine, this will pass, don’t worry. But I don’t want to be alone’_. 

“Alright, I’ll stay as long as you need.” He says, reassuringly. And after a pause, he asks “I… I suppose you don’t know how long this will last?” 

Michael shakes Its head, slightly discouraged by the question. 

“Right… that’s okay. Uhm… are you alright with me talking, even though you can’t respond?” Jon stutters out. 

Michael thinks for a moment, then nods. 

“Alright. Are you comfortable here, or would you rather we go to the couch?” Michael turns to look at the couch, then nods, looking back to Jon before quickly looking away again. 

They both get up and go to sit on the couch, Jon grabs the mugs and places them on the coffee table. He also hands Michael a blanket, asking if it would help comfort It in any way, It nods and he hands it over. 

It doesn’t take long for both of them to get comfortable. Michael is on one side of the couch, the blanket draped over Its shoulders and hugging a pillow to Its chest. Jon is on the other side of the couch, sipping his tea occasionally while he talks. They stay like this for a while, Jon talking about whatever comes to mind and Michael just nodding or shaking Its head, occasionally It will even make some small noises of affirmation. 

While telling a not particularly interesting story about something that happened during his time in research, Jon looks over to Michael only to see that It’s fallen asleep. He smiles, despite himself. Looking at It now It looks so calm. He stands up from the couch and grabs the now empty mugs, walks to the kitchen and places them in the sink. He checks the time and sees that it's already noon. That wasn’t how Jon had planned to spend his morning, but it was nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel like I went about writing anything inaccurately or if you think I should add anything to the content warning at the beginning please let me know !


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Michael have a fun bonding moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad a summarizing things so i'll probably just continue with the vague nonsense i've been doing so far.  
>  Enjoy this chapter tho !

Michael wakes up to the sound of someone typing on a keyboard. It opens Its eyes to see Jon on the other side of the couch, typing away on his laptop. It sits up and stretches, letting out a yawn, which gains Jon’s attention and he looks over. 

“Oh, how are you feeling?” He asks, watching Michael attentively. 

“Better.” It says quietly. 

“You’re talking again which is a good sign.” They say with a small smile. 

“Yeah… I’m… I’m sorry about all of that…” It says, looking down at Its hands as It fidgets with the pillow in Its lap. 

“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s alright, honest.” He says softly, placing his laptop down on the table and turning to face Michael. “Can I ask what started all of that? It must have started early in the morning as you weren’t talking since I woke up.” He pauses for a moment, then quickly says “You don’t have to answer that, sorry.” 

Michael doesn’t answer right away. It thinks everything over. It thinks about the nightmare and can remember every little detail. From how the walls shifted colours to how lost It had gotten while trying to navigate the corridors. It had all felt so real, it was like It was actually back there. Then It remembers seeing Jon there, watching It as It got lost, watching It as It opened the door. 

It keeps Its eyes downcast and continues fidgeting with the pillow as It says “I’d rather not talk about it…”, trying to keep Its voice steady as to not worry Jon anymore then It already has. 

“Of course, I don’t want to pressure you, that’s perfectly fine.” 

“Thank you.” It says quietly. 

Jon looks at Michael for a moment more, before picking up his laptop and going back to typing. 

Michael just sits there for a bit, placing all of Its attention on the pillow in Its lap. It isn’t all that interesting, but It follows the subtle pattern in the cushion with Its eyes, sometimes tracing it with Its finger. Michael is so focused on the pillow that It doesn’t notice when Jon gets up and walks over to the kitchen. 

“We don’t really have much to eat here so I’m just going to order some takeout again.” Jon calls from his place in the kitchen. He notices Michael’s lack of reaction and calls out. Again nothing. 

Jon isn’t annoyed, just a bit confused. They go over to where Michael is sitting and after a bit finally gain Its attention. 

“I’m sorry…“ It says sheepishly, not quite meeting Jon’s eye. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was just about to order some dinner for us, that’s all.” 

“Is it that late already?” Michael says, confused. It looks out the window to see that it is indeed that late. 

“Yeah, the day seemed to fly by today.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

Jon and Michael are sitting on the couch together, Jon had turned on the tv for something to do, but the volume was turned down low and neither of them are paying it any mind. Both of them are lost in their own thoughts. Finally Michael speaks up. 

“Jon…” It stars, hesitantly. 

“Yes, what is it?” 

“I… Well, I don’t really care for my hair. It has just become… bothersome…” Michael is saying all of this slowly, whether that’s because of It's stutter or because It is unsure of Itself, Jon doesn’t know. Despite that, he doesn’t say anything and let’s It finish It's thought. 

“It has just become too much. And I was wondering… if you could cut it for me..?” 

Jon gives it a thought, before saying “Well, I’ve never cut someone else’s hair before. But I can definitely give it a shot.” 

“You’ve cut your own hair before?” 

“Well, yeah. But it wasn’t _good_. Not that I’m trying to discourage you or anything, I’ll try my best of course.” 

“Oh… Thank you.” 

“Well, let’s go get everything set up.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

Jon managed to find some scissors that he thinks should work, he hopes they will anyways. Michael doesn’t seem to mind regardless, It’s just happy that Jon agreed to this. 

Their set up isn’t the best. All they did was move one of the stools away from everything else and put some bags underneath it to make it all easier to clean up afterwards. 

“Now, only if you’re comfortable with this of course, but it might be a good idea if you take the sweater off while I cut your hair so it won’t get covered in hair.” Jon says, a little reluctantly. “This is completely up to you, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable at all.” 

Michael thinks it over for a moment, before saying “You’re right.” 

As It starts to take off the sweater Jon looks away quickly. Michael then drapes a towel over Its shoulder as to both minimize that amount of hair that will land on It and to somewhat hide Itself. Then It sits on the stool, and as Jon looks towards Michael they realize that even with It sitting down, It is very tall. 

Jon walks to the side of the chair so Michael can see him. “So, how short _do_ you want your hair?” He asks. Michael motions to a bit above Its shoulders. 

“That’s really short.” 

“I want it gone.” Michael says with a smile. 

“Alright.” Jon says with a small laugh. 

He just starts by brushing out Michael’s hair, getting rid of any knots that might make it more difficult. Then they grab the kitchen scissors and start cutting Its hair. 

It doesn’t take that long, even with Jon being as careful as he is. And it isn’t the cleanest job either, even with the precautions they took there is still hair all over the floor. But soon enough Michael’s hair is just above Its shoulders. It feels like a weight has been lifted, both metaphorically and literally. 

“And I think that’s it.” Jon says, looking at Michael with a smile. 

“Thank you!” Michael says excitedly. 

“You haven’t even seen it yet.” Jon points out with a small laugh. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” Michael gets up from the stool, takes off the towel that was draped around Its shoulders and shakes the hair off into one of the bags beneath the stool. 

“So… how does it look?” Michael asks. Jon looks back up at It, certain that his face is flushed. Its hair looks great. Michael looks great. 

“You look great.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“I was asking how my hair looked, but thank you.” It says playfully, fully aware of how red Jon’s face has become. Michael then walks down the hall to the bathroom to see Its hair for Itself. 

Looking in the mirror this time Michael doesn’t feel the uncomfortable un-rightness It did before. Now It only feels relief and joy. It loves Its new hair and feels so much better now. Michael examines Its appearance for a while longer, then looks to the door to see Jon standing there doing the same. 

“Thank you.” It says with a smile, pretending to ignore how flustered Jon is. 

“It really suits you.” 

Michael goes to respond but instead lets out a yawn. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” It says quickly. 

“You don’t need to apologize for that.” Jon says quickly. “It _is_ rather late. Honestly I’m pretty tired as well, I might head to sleep rather soon.” 

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. I’ll probably do the same.” 

\-------------------------------------- 

It didn’t take them long to clean everything up, and soon enough they were both too tired to even think of staying up any later. They each said a quick goodnight before heading to their respective sleeping places. 

Even with how tired Michael is, It's tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Though luckily tonight it isn’t unpleasant thoughts that are keeping It awake. Regardless of the cause, it’s taking a while to fall asleep. Michael thinks over the events of the day. Thinks of the morning spent listening to Jon ramble on. Thinks of just spending the day with him like that. It was pleasant, it was nice. 

And eventually Michael falls asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is once again confronted with It's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter : nightmares, slight unreality, a character goes nonverbal, a character has something akin to a panic attack

Michael finds Itself in the living room of Jon’s flat when a wave of dizziness suddenly overtakes It. It stumbles over to the couch, making it just before Its legs give out and It collapses onto it. Michael just lays there for a moment with Its eyes closed, trying to think of what could have caused that, but nothing comes to mind. 

It opens Its eyes and sits up, and as It looks around the room Michael realizes that something is different. Something has changed. It isn’t sure of what, but It knows something is off. Michael decides to go to the bedroom, to try to get rid of this weird feeling that something is wrong. It stumbles down the hall and into the bedroom, not even noticing what’s wrong with the door. And as Michael passes through the door frame, a wave of dread overcomes It. But It doesn’t find Itself in the corridors, no, It finds Itself in the archives. 

Michael turns around quickly, looking for a way out, only to be greeted by an empty wall. It’s frantic now, It doesn’t know what to do. Its headache is persistent and It’s barely steady on Its feet, but Michael knows that It can’t just stay there. So It turns back around and starts walking down the hall. 

It can hear people walking about the place, It can hear hushed voices of people It thinks It might recognize. But It doesn’t want to check. Michael already knows what they’re talking about, what they’re saying about It. The cacophony of voicing all mingling together unpleasantly. 

“Michael? But he’s so young.” 

“We’re going to keep him in the dark, don’t tell him anything.” 

“It will be better for him if he doesn’t know.” 

“There’s good use in having an ignorant assistant, is there not?” 

“He doesn’t need to know. He’ll never need to know.” 

“Michael is so trusting. You can tell him anything and he’ll believe you.” 

“He seems to really care about her. He really doesn’t know her all that well, does he.” 

“I’ll only tell him that it’s a trip for work, he won’t suspect a thing.” 

The voices are overwhelming, the faint memories coming from them, It recognizes each distinct voice, but can’t remember who they all are. Or rather, who they were. Michael starts running now, rushing past doors that It recognizes even in Its panic. As Michael rushes past everything It starts to feel like It's being watched, which isn't a rare occurrence in the archives, but it's an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. 

The feeling of being watched only grows the further into the archives Michael goes. But It knows there’s nowhere else It can go. It has to keep going. As It goes It starts to see people, but It doesn’t fully see them, It only sees brief glimpses of them. It sees Emma Harvey, Mary Keay, Eric Delano, Elias Bouchard… It's all too much for Michael. It looks down to the ground, trying to block out all of the memories It’s reliving just by being here again. 

But it doesn’t work. 

Their voices only grow louder. The things they’re saying grow more menacing. And Michael can’t keep the tears at bay. It keeps running blindly until It nearly runs into a door. 

An office door. 

_Her_ office door. 

The voices stop, and Michael is alone. Well, not completely alone. It still feels like It's being watched. 

Michael is standing there, in front of the office door, Its face tear stained, Its hands shaking. It managed to turn away from the door for a moment to look around at Its surroundings, only to see Jon. Again, Jon is watching Michael. His skin is aglow and there are eyes everywhere. Not only on him, but there are eyes on the walls, on the floor, everywhere. 

Its breath hitches, and tears start to flow again as It is forced to face the door despite Its many protests. Its body moves on Its own accord once again. Its shaking hand reaches out to the door, and It knocks. 

Then Michael hears a voice call out. _Her_ voice call out. 

“Come in.” 

And It can’t do anything but reach out to the door handle and open the door. But before It can see anything, Michael wakes up. 

It sits up quickly, Its breath hitching. Its hands are shaking and tears are streaming down Its face. Michael feels overwhelmed by it all. Its chest feels tight, and it's getting more and more difficult to breathe. It feels warm, unreasonable warm. Michael kicks the blankets off of Itself and off of the bed and sits with Its knees up to Its chest. It just stays like that for a while, trying Its best to calm down. 

\-------------------------------------- 

Jon wakes up, very stiff from having slept on the couch again, but otherwise well rested. They try to remember their dream, but it seems to leave their mind as they do so. They can never remember their dreams. 

He looks around and is surprised to see that Michael hasn’t come out of the bedroom yet. It’s still early morning, so he isn’t too worried. He just gets up and goes to make himself some tea. 

\-------------------------------------- 

A few hours have passed and Jon has yet to see Michael, and he has started to worry. He doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but he wants to make sure It’s alright. So after thinking it over for a while, they decided that they should check up on It. 

They walk down the hall and knock on the bedroom door. There’s no response. They knock again and call Michael’s name. Still nothing. Jon really doesn’t want to overstep boundaries, but he feels like Michael isn’t okay. So he opens the door. 

The blankets have been tossed to the floor, and Michael is sitting on the bed, hugging Its knees to Its chest. Jon is immediately worried, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm Michael, so he approaches slowly, calling out Its name again. And finally, Michael notices them. 

When Michael looks up at him, Jon sees Its flushed, tear stained face and immediately goes to comfort It. Albeit somewhat awkwardly, but he means well. After saying words of reassurance, and repeating himself a few times, Jon asks if it would be okay to hug Michael. It just nods, then puts Its head in Its hands. As Jon embraces Michael he notices how much It is shaking, but that soon subsides. 

They stay like that for a while, Jon trying his best to reassure Michael with words and physical contact, and Michael starts to calm down. 

“I’m not going to ask what started it,” Jon starts cautiously, his voice quiet, “but could you tell me any way to help prevent it? Or how to help you if this happens again?” Michael, who has significantly relaxed in Jon’s arms, looks up at him but doesn’t say anything. 

“You can’t talk again.” They conclude. “That’s alright, this isn’t your fault. Do you want me to get your notebook?” 

Michael immediately shakes Its head. No, don’t leave me, It seems to say. So Jon stays there, embracing the taller person until It gets comfortable enough to hug him back. And Jon realizes this is the first time they’ve ever hugged. 

Time seems to pass by quickly for them both, but Michael’s panic ebbs away and they’re left just embracing one another. In the quiet of the room all they can hear is each other's breaths, and as Michael’s breathing slows to a reasonable pace, Jon starts to calm down as well. Neither of them know how much time has passed, but neither of them seem to care either. They are just content to stay like this, together, in the stillness of the early morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm sorry about the amount of angst this fic has. That one was a lot, so please take care of yourself ! Go read some fluff, or just take a break from reading fics and go do something fun,, you deserve it !


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